Growing Together
by the-true-mockingjay
Summary: Clarke and Bellamy come together as they try to run a camp full of delinquents, forge a treaty for peace with the grounders, prepare for the ark to make its decent to the earth, all while winter is blowing in. They don't realize that Clarke's time in solitary means that she and the others weren't getting the medical check ups they should have been.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello Everyone and welcome to my triumphant return to fanfiction. I am on archive now, so if you need to find me and my stories they are there. This is my new Bellarke fanfiction, there are currently 5 chapters up on archive, I am going to update this often to put all my chapters on here over a short period of time. I update this story regularly (for the most part). Enjoy!**

Clarke had learned many things about the earth since she had come to the ground; she had learned what it felt like to be completely covered by water when she swam for the very first time, she had learned the unfortunate feeling of the after affects of an insects bight, she had learned that the feeling of the sun beating on the skin wasn't even comparable to sitting in front of the heating unit that was on the ark. She had also learned about the cold, and it was cold. This cold was different from the chill of space, it wasn't a manageable feeling, something that could be fixed with a heating unit or simply moving into the next room. It was a biting, nasty cold that seeped into the skin and resided in the bones. A cold that was inescapable, indescribable, and bitter. For the first time in her life Clarke Griffin was very, very, cold.

The nights were growing longer and the daylight started to dwindle in the few weeks that they had spent on the ground. So much had happened since their descent. Raven had come from the ark to help them and see her boyfriend, Finn, who had pined after Clarke since the day they arrived on earth. Octavia had managed to fall quite literally into the arms of a grounder whom Clarke and Bellamy tortured and are now apprehensive acquaintances with, due to his, Lincoln's, relationship with Octavia. The ark was set to come down at any time, and the entire camp was waiting to see if their family would make their final journey to the ground in one piece.

The camps relationship with the grounders was rocky at best. After their failed meeting with Anya to try and quell some tension between the two camps they had been at a stalemate with one another. Clarke was in the process of setting up a meeting with the grounders commander, a fearsome woman named Lexa, with Lincoln in the next coming days. Bellamy is well aware of this impending meeting, and is not so keen on the idea. For the time being the walls around the camp remain and the delinquents are still on high alert as they await any impending doom that could come their way.

Today Clarke is set to divvy out duties to camp members working in the medical tent with her. They had set up quite a nice area for her there, full of different substances from the earth Lincoln was secretly showing her so that she could help her friends when they needed. She knows how to create many salves and remedies now using earth born plants thanks to Lincoln's help. Today she is showing some of the others how to prepare some of these in emergencies, and assign each of them one to remember specifically, in case of Clarke's absence from camp should an emergency arise.

"Okay," she breathed and put her hands on the table in front of her, "does anyone remember what this one is?" She points to a green leafy, stringy plant that smelt of salt and fish.

"Seaweed," one of the younger ones, a girl named Daisy, replied.

"Great," Clarke said with a smile, "and what is it used for?" She squints at the girl as a wrinkle appears between Daisy's eyes as she concentrates on what Clarke had told her that day.

"A few different things, when eaten it is good for protein or something, that's good for energy. And... it can be used to treat burns?" She looked a Clarke expectantly, pleading for her to assure her that she had said the right thing, or help her find the correct answer.

"That's good, and true, both those statements are true. It also can treat other wounds as well as rashes. We aren't really going to use it for food since we don't have much of it but we will use it for-"

"Clarke can I talk to you." Bellamy Blake was standing in the door to the dropship with his hands on his hips, a tense expression on his face.

"Bellamy," Clarke glared, "I am in the middle of something."

"Clarke," he gave her a look of warning and Clarke rolled her eyes.

"Give me a second guys," she said as she dismissed herself from the group. Bellamy glances at the tarp that covers the dropship's entrance. Clarke strides out, not waiting for Bellamy to take the lead. She could have sworn that she heard the kids in the ship say something about mom and dad arguing again, but she couldn't be sure.

Once they are a proper distance away from any prying ears into the woods behind the ship Clarke turned toward him, her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. "What do you want Bellamy?"

"Relax Princess," he puts his hands up in defense, "just wanted to have a conversation. Octavia told me that Lincoln went to set up the final pieces for this grounder meeting. Are you seriously still going through with this?"

"Bellamy," Clarke sighed, "I don't see how this could not happen. We obviously aren't getting anywhere with the grounders and if we keep going the way we are they are going to pick us off one by one until eventually there are none of us left. What do you want us to do, just sit around and let our people die?"

"Of course not," he defends, he is frustrated, Clarke can see it in the tense frame of his arms, the way his eyes move between hers as if trying to find an answer in them that benefits them both. "I just don't like it," he finally said, "I don't want you going in there to talk to one of them again. Look at what happened the last time."

"We didn't know any better last time." Clarke watched as Bellamy's arms flex and his fists clenched ever so slightly at the memory of the day at the bridge. She knows he saw Octavia run into Lincolns arms only days after he had escaped from their camp.

"You almost died Clarke." His eyes bore into hers with an intensity that she hadn't seen before.

"Why should that matter to you?" She pushed, "Only a few weeks ago you wanted nothing more than for the ark to think I was dead. Why not just make it true? Then you could do whatever the hell you want Bellamy."

"Maybe I don't want to do whatever the hell I want," his eyes leave hers, his arms crossing over his chest as he kicked the dirt with one boot, "maybe this camp needs you."

"Maybe," she agreed, "and maybe they need me to negotiate peace with the grounders so that we can finally live. Freely."

Bellamy rubbed a hand over his face in frustration as he took in Clarke's words. He knew she was right, of course she was, she was always right, but damn it he was not about to let her walk into another situation like the last. He couldn't risk her life like that again. He thought that his fears that day had been for Octavia alone when they were standing on that bridge, but when the first arrow hit the ground it was blond hair he looked for first.

"I'm coming with you, not up for debate." The look on his face told Clarke not to argue, and so she sighed and nodded her head.

"Honestly," she smiled, "I wouldn't have gone without you. I need you."

His eyes shone curiously at hers at this statement, and she could have sworn she saw hope in the look he was giving her. He took a step towards her and she relaxed her arms a bit.

"For this mission, I mean," she corrected, heat rushing to her cheeks, "I need you for this mission. You're probably our best fighter after all and you're good protection."

Bellamy smirked and continued to step towards her until they were almost toe to toe. He smiled down at her and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

"Sure Princess. Whatever you say." He walked away without another look behind him and Clarke struggled to catch her breath the whole way back to the dropship.

The rest of the day went by quickly for Clarke, she had shown the others how to mix salves and the proper amounts of which ingredient make for a good remedy for swelling. She showed them the different herbs she puts in her teas and how to stitch up a laceration, which was not on her list of things to show her fellow delinquents but when Carson came in with a large cut on his forearm she thought it might be useful for at least one other person to know how to do it. Many of the camp had spent a lot of the day reinforcing the wall and collecting food for the coming winter. They could all feel the air getting brisker as the days went by, and so the cooler season must be on the way. Clarke had given up some of her blankets to the people that had come into the dropship recently with colds, they all seemed to be chilled to the bone. While this benefitted her patients, it wasn't really helpful to Clarke herself.

Raven had been the first to bring this to Clarke's attention one day. "You know Clarke," she said, "it's great that you want to help and all, but they do have at least a blanket and they are sleeping in the ship, the warmest place in camp. It sucks that we can't do more but it helps no one if you get sick too."

Raven was right and Clarke knew it, but she couldn't in good conscience not give a blanket to a person suffering when she could help.

This is what has landed Clarke in the situation she is in now. It is the end of the day, the sun has gone down and that damn chill has taken over the camp, covering it in a blanket of damp, on the verge of freezing, dew. She shivered the whole way back to her tent where she would hopefully find some comfort, especially since the wind had just picked up. As she enters she falls swiftly onto her bed, only to be met with the feeling of a very cold, thin blanket, and the stuffed parachute she had used for a mattress. She threw the blanket on top of her and waited for the shivering to stop.

A few hours later she awoke to the sound of the wind slamming into the side of her tent. It howled so loud if she didn't know any better she would have thought it were someone screaming. Her first thought is to go and check on her patients. Climbing out of bed she is met with the cold air that bites to the bone. She snatched her blanket and wraps it around herself, hoping that would provide a small shield from the weather as she attempts to make her way across camp.

Bravely she stepped out from her tent and trudged towards the drop ship. It was dark, only the moon providing light for her to see her path. All of the fires had been extinguished and she could see that everyone was hunkered down in their tents for the night, attempting to shut out this weather. She can see materials they were using to build the wall were being picked up and tossed by the wind in different directions. She knows the camp will be a mess in the morning and hopes this wind dies soon so that they won't have to spend too long trying to clean it up.

As she ducks her head to try and escape the wind Clarke doesn't notice a branch that had come loose from the wind was barreling towards her at a high rate of speed. She could barely hear over the sound of the wind and the chatter of her teeth. She only had a few steps left to get to the ship when the branch strikes her in the shoulder, sending her hurtling towards the ground. She lets out a cry of pain as she falls, unable to catch herself due to her limbs being caught in the blanket. She feels her shoulder and head slam into the dirt at the same time, making her mind go blank and the shivering momentarily stop. She groans as she tries to roll and get to her feet, but her body is too heavy. She lies there on the ground, cold and in pain, for what feels like hours, but is only probably a few minutes before she hears him.

"Fuck Clarke," she can hear footsteps approaching her at a rapid pace, "what the hell are you doing out here?" A pair of arms lifts her from the ground and into their chest. She groaed with pain and they let out a quick sorry as they head in the opposite direction of the dropship. She looks up and sees the dark curls of the boy whose tent sits right next to hers.

"The patients," she tried to protest when she realizes they are heading back towards her tent, "Bellamy-"

"We aren't going back there Princess," his voice is gruff and full of sleep and something else Clarke can't quite pinpoint, was it fear?

He ducked into her tent and went to put her in the bed, but when his hand brushed the mattress he stopped. "Clarke," he said, "where are all of your blankets?"

"Gave them to the sick," she replied as her head lolled onto his shoulder, sleep pushing its way into her mind. "I'm so tired Bell."

He softened at the sound of her calling him by his nickname, and sighed as he hoisted her back into his arms and turned towards the entrance.

"Fuck it," he huffed, "you're staying in my tent tonight Princess."

"Bell," Clarke began to protest, but Bellamy wasn't hearing it.

"Don't argue with me Clarke, you're freezing and hurt. Let someone take care of you for a change."

She nodded her head and closed her eyes, resting against Bellamy as he carried her back to his tent. Once inside he pulled back his many layers of blankets and placed Clarke carefully inside. He noticed when he put her down that she was favoring her right side, holding her arm against herself and rolling onto her left.

"Clarke does this hurt," he said as he gently places a hand on her shoulder. All he received in response was a soft nod and a grunt from the girl occupying his bed. "Clarke, did you hit your head?" Another nod. He sighed with frustration, what was he going to do with this reckless girl?

"Alright," he breathed, "get some rest. We can take a look at it in the morning."

"You sleep too," she mumbled as she pat the bed next to her.

"You're not thinking straight Clarke go to bed, you're concussed."

"It is your bed," she retorts, and he rolled his eyes. "It's fine just get in Bell, besides, you're really warm."

Well, he couldn't argue with that, he was much warmer than Clarke, and maybe a little body heat would help with her current situation. He relents rather easily and slides into the bed next to her. She turns towards him and her eyes slant open momentarily as she sticks a finger in his face and smirks as she said, "no funny business." Yup, she was definitely concussed.

"Go to bed Princess," he chuckled and she rolled back over, snuggling further into the bed.

"Goodnight Bellamy," she said into her pillow, sleep already overtaking her.

"Goodnight Clarke."

She could have sworn that before she drifted off for good, she felt a pair of lips brush against her shoulder.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello Everyone, here is chapter 2, again more of this story is up on my archive account under the same name, I am horrible at updating fanfiction but I am making the effort! Enjoy!**

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Clarke woke up the next morning with a heavy weight in her head, on her shoulder, and around her middle. Her head and shoulder she could explain, she remembered falling last night, hitting the ground hard and not being able to move; the weight around her middle however, was foreign. Something else was different too, it was warm, very warm. Where did she get these furs from?

A stirring from behind her causes her eyes to flutter open as she takes in her surroundings. She is now acutely aware of a steady breathing that fills the tent that she is currently resting in, and it is not her own. tilting her head to the side she can make out the dark curls of the boy sleeping beside her who is currently holding her securely against his chest. She runs a hand along the strong forearm around her middle and tries to remember the night. At her movement Bellamy burrows his nose slightly into her hair and his arms tighten momentarily around her. Despite the throbbing in her head and the ache in her shoulder, she can't help but think this is the safest she has felt since coming to the ground.

She tried to lift his arm from her waist but is successful only in making him pull her tighter against him. In her efforts to escape she inadvertently rubs her ass up against Bellamy and she can feel him stiffen beneath her, a low groan escaping his lips. Her own breath catches in her throat at the outcome of her actions and she tried to maneuver away from him further.

"Stop moving," he mumbled, and draws her closer. "Tryin' to sleep."

"We have to get up," she tried, although she has to admit, contrary to her efforts getting up is the last thing she wants to do at the moment. Her head is pounding and she's sore, and quite comfortable where she is.

"Five more minutes Princess," he groaned into her hair, "the kids aren't even up yet."

Clarke chuckled at the nickname he uses for the rest of the camp. Admittedly she does the same, as they are almost all in fact children; only Bellamy is older than eighteen, him being twenty-two, and the next oldest is Raven, who turns nineteen in a month. She knows that the delinquents call them 'mom and dad' behind their backs and honestly she sort of liked it. She and Bellamy were the leaders in their eyes, if it comforted the camp to call them by these parental names then who was she to protest.

"They will be soon and you know they don't start their chores if we don't make them."

After a moment of no response Clarke resigns and snuggles slightly back into the furs, and into Bellamy. It was warm and he was comfortable and damn it this was a luxury she hadn't been able to enjoy on the earth yet. A low moan escapes Bellamy's lips as his hand travels lower towards her hip and he squeezed lightly.

"You aren't making this easy Clarke," he growled through gritted teeth, and suddenly she is very conscious of the way the curve of her backside sits perfectly in his lap. She blushed and turns her head into the pillow, a shy smirk on her face.

"Sorry, just getting comfy, we really should get up though." She turned her face to look at him then and catches a heavy look in his eyes. He blinks and it's all but gone as he looks at the ceiling and Clarke wonders if she had even seen it at all.

"You're right," he said, his voice sounding a bit more awake now, and his eyes meet hers again. This time he doesn't look away, and neither does she, and she is acutely aware of the position they are in. "Let's get up Clarke," he said and she nodded, but neither of them move.

His arm traveled up from her hips, ghosting over the dip of her waist, and up the expanse of her arm to rest on her shoulder. He rubs it gently and looks at it with great concentration and concern takes over his expression. "How does this feel?" She hadn't even remembered the pain in her shoulder until then, but that might be due to the feelings for a certain person running their hands all over her that were currently overriding all of her senses. But now she felt it, the throbbing pain that emulated from the spot his hand was gliding over gently.

"It's nothing," she lied, and he pressed down a little harder. Her sharp intake of breath gives her away. He raised an eyebrow at her and she huffed, "I'm fine Bellamy."

"Really, then what about this?" He asked again and moved his hand to her side. His hand brushed her ribs and she didn't even know that her side had been sensitive until his fingers dug in slightly and all the air left her lungs. "You should rest today."

"No," she protested, "I have to go check on those patients, that storm was nasty last night."

"No kidding, you almost became a patient yourself. What were you thinking going out there in the middle of the night? And giving away all of your blankets when winter is coming Clarke, great idea." The look in his eyes tells her he doesn't really expect an answer, but she gives him one anyways.

"I was thinking that if people are sick from the cold, then being cold is probably the worst thing for them, so maybe warming them up would do some good. Also, I wanted to make sure nothing in the drop ship was falling on their heads in their sleep because the last thing I need is concussed sick-"

Clarke's words are cut off when the flap to Bellamy's tent is peeled back and Octavia sticks her head in. "Bellamy do you know where Clarke is, no one can- oh." The look of shock and excitement on her face does not go unnoticed and Clarke blushes harder than she ever has in her entire life. The position they were in was needless to say, compromising. Bellamy was stilled hovering over Clarke with his hand reaching around to touch her side and while she had been speaking she hadn't realized that he was rubbing slow circles into the sensitive flesh, leaving goose bumps as he went. His head fell to her shoulder when he heard his sisters voice and a growl of frustration escaped his lips. Clarke didn't know if she should stay hidden under Bellamy's blankets for the rest of eternity or shove him off and get up immediately, both actions seemed pretty telling, and only made her feel as if she could only look more guilty from preforming either one.

Before Clarke can say anything Bellamy spoke first, "Clarke went out in the storm last night and got hurt. I brought her back here."

"From the looks of it you are taking really great care of her." The smile in Octavia's voice is blatant and annoying. She sounded so smug and assured, as if she knows exactly what was happening in this tent; Clarke wanted nothing more than to tell her that everything that transpired was completely innocent, just friends helping friends, but then she didn't know if she would be telling the truth. The look of Bellamy's eyes every time they meet hers tells her that it might not be.

"Octavia," Bellamy said in a warning tone, and Clarke can see her immediately put her hands up in defense.

"Hey I'm just saying she looks pretty comfortable," she chuckled and Clarke is mortified.

"There were no blankets in my tent," she tried to cover for herself and her counterpart.

"Sure, and my brothers are the only extras you could find." From the way that Bellamy tensed above her she could tell his patience is growing thin.

"O, I think it's best if you wait for Clarke outside, we will be out in a minute," he said through gritted teeth, and Octavia huffed.

"Fine, I'm just here to let you know that everyone is waiting for you guys to tell us what to do. The camp is a mess and no one knows where to start so hurry up." Clarke heard the tent flap swish shut and she let out the air in her lungs she didn't know she was holding.

Bellamy picked his head up and those damn eyes were staring at her again, "I am so sorry." She smiled and simultaneously they break into a fit of laughter at the ridiculous nature of their situation.

When they collect themselves again Bellamy looks serious once more. "Really though Princess, you should take it easy today, let me handle things."

She snorted at the idea of him bossing everyone around for the day without her there to deter his anger when people aren't moving fast enough or doing things right the first time, "Yeah right, you know they need both of us. Come on, lets get up before someone else comes looking."

He moves off of her slowly, being sure to let his hand skim across her stomach as he does so. She is glad she is still in a t-shirt, she would have been horrified if he could see the trail of bumps left on her skin where his fingers had been. It was like electricity coursed through her at every touch, no one had ever made her feel like this before.

Once up and properly dressed with jackets and furs they headed out of the tent to greet the camp. Their tandem exit did not go unnoticed, and Clarke could see and hear the whispers already starting around the camp. She groaned and Bellamy looked at her with confusion, but she just shook her head and moved towards the drop ship. He caught her arm before she was completely out of reach. "I'll be over by the wall helping patch the holes, go easy today, if you need me send someone."

His concern would have been cute if it wasn't so damn annoying, and if it didn't make her stomach do backflips that he seemed to care so much. She nodded her head and looked at his hand still lightly holding her arm, "And Princess," he waited for her eyes to meet his, "you can sleep in my tent any night. I have enough furs for the both of us." Clarke felt the heat rush to her cheeks and she nodded again and slipped her arm from his grasp, turning back towards the drop ship and attempting to not think of what his words could imply.

In the drop ship Clarke could see that it was a disaster. As she had suspected, items that she had stored were strewn all over the floor, the shelved boxes and utensils were everywhere, nothing was in the right place. Some of the patients were out of bed attempting to pick up the mess the storm had made, others seemed to have simply slept right through it. Clarke smiled at a young girl, Izzy, who must have only been fourteen, as she cleaned up the bottle of alcohol that had spilled near her bed. Monty had cooked up special batches just for the use of medical purposes, she was going to have to ask him to make some more. She spent the entire day restocking and shelving the ship, making sure that patients were well and on the mend. A few people came in to see her who had been injured in the night by things either falling or flying into them. She had to preform a few stitches and make slings for those who needed them. By the end of the day she was sore, her shoulder ached and her side was screaming at her to sit down and rest. Her head throbbed while she talked to Jasper about different herbs they could use to make poultices.

Raven brought her food around dinner time, recognizing her absence from the group. "Hey," she greeted with a plate of meat and nuts in hand, "haven't seen you all day. Busy?"

Clarke smiled, glad for the reprieve, "Yeah, this place was a disaster zone. How did you guys do on the wall and with the tents?"

"Fine, we finished most of it for now, patched the biggest holes and can work on the rest tomorrow," she eyed Clarke in a way that told her that she wanted to say something she hadn't, "I have a question."

Clarke knew what was coming, and motioned for Raven to continue as she shoved a fist full of nuts into her mouth, "So I heard a rumor this morning."

"That isn't a question," Clarke retorts, and suddenly her meat is very intriguing.

"The question is about the validity of said rumor," Raven continues, waiting patiently for Clarke to look up at her. "So, is it?"

"Well since I don't know what the rumor is, I can't tell you if it is true or not." Clarke purposefully fills her mouth with her food so she couldn't talk anymore and say anything dumb.

"Rumor is that mom and dad are finally playing house for real. So tell me, are you and Bellamy sleeping together?"

Clarke gulped and looks at anything but Raven, "Depends, what do you consider sleeping together?"

Raven laughed at Clarke's attempt at aversion and said, "Did Bellamy stick his dick in you Clarke, yes or no?"

"Raven!" Clarke's mouth fell open in shock and the amusement in Raven's eyes was uncontainable.

"Hey you wanted me to get to the point."

"Well the answer is no. We just, slept in the same bed is all."

"Right, you're telling me that Bellamy Blake had you in his bed and didn't even attempt to seduce you. Who do you think I am, Harper? Tell me what happened, I want all the details." Raven sat back in her chair and crossed her arms, clear that she had no where else to be any time soon. She was right, Clarke couldn't fool her, she wasn't a hopeless romantic like Harper was, she saw things the way they were, that's why Clarke liked Raven so much, she was the most genuine person she had ever met.

"I went out in the storm last night to check on the patients," she started and Raven interrupts immediately.

"That was really dumb, especially for you," She blanched, but Clarke continues.

"Well yeah, I fell and hit my head and my shoulder and somehow now my side really hurts and Bellamy found me. He tried to take me back to my tent but I don't have any blankets in there right now since I have them all to the patients..."

"Clarke, what-"

"So he brought me back to his tent instead and we fell asleep. He made sure I was alright this morning and we went to work. No big deal."

Raven's expression was somewhere between intrigue and disbelief, "Clarke, that sounded really, really, stupid. You go out in a storm, you give all your patients your blankets, you come in to help today when you're hurt, no wonder he didn't let you out of his sight!"

"Exactly!" Clarke was so glad someone finally understood.

"Yeah he's so in love with you I'm surprised he even let you get out of bed at all today. If it were Finn I would have strapped him to the mattress, and not in the fun way." She chuckled and Clarke was taken aback.

"I'm sorry, what? Repeat the beginning of that sentence please."

"About Bellamy being in love with you, oh yeah he totally is. It's so obvious even the younger once's have noticed. Really Clarke you can be pretty damn dense sometimes." Raven stood up and stretched her arms above her head, yawning as she took one last look around. "Alright, I'm headed to bed, this day sucked. Have a goodnight, and I want details about it in the morning." She winked and walked out of the drop ship before Clarke could respond, leaving her sitting their with her mouth gaping like a fish out of water.

"She's right," she heard from behind her, and Izzy is rubbing her eyes from the cot she rests on, "he totally likes you."

"Go to bed Izzy," Clarke rolled her eyes and tucks her in before heading out of the ship.

Once outside her feet take her towards her tent. Before she steps inside she realizes that still she has no blankets and contemplates heading back to the medical area for more when another idea hits her. She glanced at Bellamy's tent sitting right beside hers and sighs. Her feet start moving before her brain does and she is lifting the flap and inside before she could stop herself. She can see him sitting in the bed, covered in furs with no shirt on, a small fire burning in the middle of the tent under where he had cut a whole in the canopy to let the smoke out, giving him just enough light to read from a book that she hadn't noticed before. The Odyssey it reads. He looks up and smiles at her when their eyes meet and placed the book on the ground next to him.

She takes a deep breath in and approaches the bed. "Here goes nothing," she mumbled to herself, and slid her shoes and jacket off and got into the bed beside him.

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**Well there it is, expect a lot of fluffy touching and love in this fic, with a bit of angst because, let's be real, it is the 100. The next chapter will be up soon. As always feel free to review and leave a comment on what you think. **

PS: That premiere was FULL of Bellarke love and I am here for it. Season 6 is our season!

Love,

**-LM**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here you go! There will be more notes in the end, so for now, just enjoy reading!**

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A few days went by and it only grew colder. Clarke continued her new sleeping arrangement every night and she had to admit, it was damn nice. She fell asleep every night with strong arms around her or nuzzled into his chest as the thump of his heartbeat lulled her to sleep. Clarke always woke up first in the morning and would coax Bellamy to open his eyes, only for him to groan and pull her back into him, burying his face in her hair and telling her to relax a little and let him sleep. She didn't mind, they were on earth after all, and while Lincoln hadn't come back yet with news about the grounder meeting, the camp hadn't had any sightings in over a week. Things were finally calming down, feeling more normal. In the days that had passed they had managed to clean up the camp quite nicely and rebuild the wall. They had hunted a fair amount of game and Monty and Jasper had taught a few of the other boys how to build a smoke house, so they could properly cook and store meat. Now that they know what nuts are good for them and which ones make them lose their minds, their food supply had tripled. Really things on the ground were functioning quite nicely.

That is why at this moment Clarke is currently lying in bed next to Bellamy, stroking his arm and contemplating whether she herself should fall back asleep or not.

"You know," she heard from over her shoulder, "it's hard to sleep with all that thinking." His voice was always lower and rougher in the morning, she couldn't even try to describe what the sound of it did to her.

"Not as loud as your snoring," she quipped back and smirked. He squeezed her a bit harder than normal at that.

"I do not snore!"

"Yes you do, only some nights and mostly when you sleep on your back, but you most certainly do snore." She chuckled when she turned to face him and found a hurt expression on his face.

"Do I wake you?" He looked concerned and Clarkes heart soared.

"No, Bellamy I was just kidding. You barely snore. Really it was only just one night and I'm pretty sure you just had a runny nose from the cold."

"That's good," he smiled at her and she realized then that he was running his hand up and down her arm.

That is something that has been happening a lot recently, both of them without even realizing it have becoming very hands on with one another. She was always touching his elbow and shoulders and grabbing for his hands, even when out working in the camp. He was always touching her arms and grabbing for her waist when he pulled her aside, leaving his hand there sometimes when they talked to each other. When they sat with the others at night around the fire she was always finding her head on his shoulder without thinking about it, and he has taken to the habit of sitting in front of her on the ground, leaning back against her legs as she combed her fingers through his hair. It all seemed so natural to her that she hadn't realized that it wasn't quite normal until Raven had pointed it out to her.

"I think that we have stayed in bed a bit to long, I can hear Monroe arguing with the boys already." It was true, she could hear the chatter of camp bustling around the tent as the sun woke everyone up. It had been coming up later and later it seemed, another sign that winter was coming.

"Is there ever going to be a morning where we get to sleep in?" He asked, she laughed and shook her head and attempted to climb over him to get out of the bed. Before she could get off Bellamy snaked his arms around her waist and flipped her back over onto the mattress, landing half on top of her but making sure that his weight didn't crush her.

"Bellamy!" she laughed and he chuckled as he went to move off. Their noses brushed and all the air rushed from her lungs in an instant. As if sensing her change in mood he froze, his face hovering just above hers. They stared at one another, and Clarke noticed that her breathing had picked up, but his had slowed, and a determined looked crossed his expression. Experimentally he brought his face closer to hers. Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes slid shut as his lips brushed softly against hers in the most gentle kiss she had ever experienced. She opened her eyes again to see his searching hers.

She smiled and her heart thumped loudly as she placed a hand on his cheek, the other on his waist. He grinned widely back at her and dipped his head back in with more enthusiasm this time. He caught her lips in a passionate embrace, nipping at her bottom lips and gliding his tongue across. She gasped at the gesture opening her mouth just wide enough for him to slip his tongue through. His hips jerked forward as her nails dug into his side and her other hand slipped lower towards his shoulder. He caught her wrist by his neck and pinned it next to her head, hovering over her still, he began to kiss across her cheek and down the column of her throat.

"Bellamy," she let out in a panicked yet excited moan, "we can't."

She heard a low rumble come from his chest, a sound of frustration, as he continued to kiss a sweet spot on her neck, "why not," he growled.

"The whole camp will hear," she tried.

"Don't care," he replied, and kissed his way back up to her lips, "they already think we've been doing this for a while anyways."

"Bellamy, we can't," she stated again between kisses. He stops this time and looked her in the eye, a serious frown on his mouth.

"Why not," he asked again. "Give me a reason why this, us, shouldn't happen."

"It will ruin what we have here," she said matter of factly. He looks confused so she continued, "come on Bellamy, you know they look up to us. We have to be a team."

"I don't know princess, I think we work pretty damn well together," he eyed her up and down as if to emphasize his statement, and she huffed.

"Bellamy," her tone was serious, "we can't run a camp and sleep together. It will complicate things."

"I hate to point it out to you, but we have been sleeping together. All week in fact. I don't understand how us moving forward is going to affect that." He looks genuinely confused and it makes Clarke's heart ache with need. Seeing him want her made her want him even more, but she knows Bellamy Blake. The first week on the ground he had multiple girls in and out of his tent, vying for the attention of their leader. She wasn't judging Bellamy for his extra curricular activity, but she couldn't help but think of that string of girls that had been with him before her, and how she couldn't be so casual, so uninvested with him. Ever since their day trip she had real feelings developing for him, and Clarke refused to be just another conquest.

"Bell, I can't do this. I can't be with you and not be with you, do you understand?" She looked into his eyes and saw his wheels turning. His expression, however, was unreadable. He nodded his head and she nodded back. Her heart broke a little when he made to get off of her, leaving her body cold and aching, and not just for his warmth. He picked up his cloths and started to get dressed, putting her pants and jacket on the bed beside him, having his back to her the whole time. Perched on the side of the bed he tied his boots, and once done he stood, making his way for the door. Clarke hadn't moved. He turned back and finally met her eyes.

He opened his mouth to say something, and then shut it again, as if he were making sure he was about to say the exact right thing. She looked at him curiously, never breaking eye contact, daring him to speak.

"Think about what you're asking," he said, his tone serious, "we can talk about it later." With that he turned and left.

Clarke is seriously confused. What the hell does that even mean? She is pretty sure that she is the one who told him how she felt, maybe she wasn't clear enough, maybe he didn't understand what she meant; to her it was obvious, she can't sleep with him and not be in love with him. She can't let Bellamy Blake be with her unless it was only her, why the hell does she have to do the thinking? Isn't he the one who has to figure out if that's what he wants too?

These questions swirl around in her brain as she gets up and ready for the day. She eats breakfast with Raven in silence, which is very odd seeing as her friend always has something to talk about. Raven, however could tell that something was up with her best friend. She could tell that Clarke had something on her mind and has learned from experience in these last few weeks on the ground to let Clarke come to her first. When no one speaks she decides to approach the silence with a different method.

"We are going to start building cabins today," she said, seeing Clarke stir the porridge in her bowl continuously, "hopefully we can get a few up by the time the snow comes."

Clarke nods along with the conversation, letting Raven tell her all about the blueprints and planning that went into it, about the number of people per cabin they could house and how many they wanted to build.

"You know, if we had a few couples that wanted their own space we could probably arrange for smaller cabins. They wouldn't be hard to build, hell of a lot less materials," she could tell Clarke had no clue what she was getting at so Raven decided to cut right to the chance, "so if you and Bellamy want your own all you have to do is ask."

Clarke's spoon drops into the bowl and her head snaps to Raven, "What did you say?"

"You know, you and Bellamy. You could have your own cabin. You guys are already shacking up anyways, I doubt the rest of the camp will want to share a space with you two when the time comes, it would be nice to have your own spot." Raven leans forward towards her, bumping Clarke's shoulder in a friendly way and wiggled her eyebrows at her.

"It's not like that," Clarke blushed, "we aren't together."

"Right, and I'm not the best engineer on the ground," Raven scoffed, shoveling the last bits of food into her mouth.

"I'm serious, Clarke responded, putting her head in her hands, "he doesn't want that."

"Have you asked him?" Raven said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Not directly I guess. I sort have told him this morning that I couldn't sleep with him and not be with him and he was, I don't know, odd about it. He told me to think about what I said." She looked at Raven as if for help.

"Well," Raven responded, "did you think about it?"

"What is there to think about! I said it, shouldn't he be the one doing the thinking?" She raised her voice a bit and other people around the camp began to notice.

Raven lowered her voice and said, "not if he already knows his answer."

Clarke was about to ask what the hell that meant when she heard someone yell Raven's name from across camp. "Duty calls," she said, and stood up to leave.

Great, now she has two vague and confusing statements to ponder over all day. As she works in the drop ship her mind continuously wanders to Bellamy. She imagines what it would be like to kiss him again, to have his hand slide across her body, to have him flush against her at night. She wonders what it would feel like to have him breathy and moaning as her name crossed his lips. She wanted to say his name as he made her come apart in his hands. She is extremely distracted when Finn comes bursting into the ship, panting.

"Finn," she crossed the space towards him, putting her hand on his shoulder as he caught his breath, "what's going on?"

"Lincoln," he breathed, "he's back."

Clarke moved past him and out the door towards the gate. As she approached she could see the delinquents were tense, forming a group around the entrance to camp; some had their guns raised, others had weapons in hand. This didn't look good.

She could make out a few heads standing above the crowd, taller than the people that lived in camp; grounders. The one in front was Lincoln, but the five that stood behind him she did not recognize. She could see Bellamy in front of her, rigid, his arms crossed over his chest as his guards flanked him with guns. He was making it clear to the other grounders who was in charge here.

She moved towards him, pushing other people out of the way so that she could get to the front. Someone, she couldn't tell who, said her name and Bellamy's head whipped around, his eyes landing on her. He looked panicked for a moment before composing himself again. He turned a bit sideways, one foot towards her one facing the men in front of them, making sure to keep an eye out so he could tell if they were to advance. When she reached him he put his arm out, his eyes glued on the grounders. She looked up at him questioningly but he never looked down, instead he turned towards the grounders fully once more and pushed her behind his body, shielding her from their view.

"Lincoln," he said, his voice calm but Clarke could feel the muscles in his back were tense, "you brought friends."

"Nice to see you again Bellamy, Clarke," he said, leaning around to smile at her, she smiled back and nodded her greeting towards him, "we have come to help."

"We didn't ask for help," Bellamy responded matter of factly, "we just wanted a meeting with your commander."

"You have been granted one," his words cause the crowd that had formed to start whispering, everyone asking the same thing: who is this commander and what do they want?

"Maybe it would be better if we talked in private." Lincoln gestured at the drop ship and Bellamy nodded.

"Your men stay outside the wall," he said, it was clear the statement was not a request. Lincoln gestured for his men to stay. Bellamy grabbed for Clarke's arm and turned towards her, it was not beyond her notice again that he was between her and the grounders as he walked them to the ship. There were no patients in right now, giving them the perfect opportunity for privacy.

Bellamy let Lincoln enter first, pulling Clarke along by her hand, making sure that she was the closest to the door in case he attacked. She was confused by these gestures, he had never been so protective before. Lincoln even took note of the behavior, making sure to give Clarke a wide berth as to avoid agitating Bellamy.

"Lexa, our commander, would like to meet with you." His eyes were trained on Clarke.

"Me?" She said, pointing to herself, "why?"

"You are the leader here, are you not?" Lincoln looked confused.

"Bellamy and I both are," she stated, but Lincoln looks unconvinced.

"Well when you meet the commander it is best not to mention that. She respects strong leadership, and believes that you are your kru's commander. She will want to speak only to you."

Bellamy tenses and takes a step closer to Lincoln, "If you think Clarke is going there alone-"

"That's not what I'm saying," Lincoln puts his hands up in defense, "I am just letting you know that the commander is interested in meeting Clarke. Of course she wouldn't expect her to come without security." His eyes shift between the two of them, "of course she would want you to bring your chosen."

"My what?" Clarke asked, her eyebrows raised.

"Your chosen. Bellamy." It is Lincoln's turn to be confused. "Are you two not one another's?"

"One another's what exactly?" Clarke takes a step forward so she's standing at Bellamy's side.

"How did they used to put it..." Lincoln thought a minute, "spouse? Our people honor such relationships with the highest respect. The commander would not refuse your chosen's company or protection."

Bellamy's eyes narrowed as he comprehended Lincoln's words. Clarke was dumbfounded, she didn't know how to respond to Lincoln. She and Bellamy were certainly not married, but she could not, no, would not go there without him. Before she got the chance to respond, Bellamy beat her to it.

"Yes," he said, his eyes never leaving Lincoln's, "she is my chosen, I am hers. When do we meet the commander?"

Lincoln nodded as if the answer was what he expected, and Clarke did her best not to look absolutely shocked, "a few months. The journey is long and the snow will come soon. That is why my men are here, we will help you build shelters."

She saw Bellamy's jaw tick, "I think we can handle that on our own." He doesn't like it, doesn't want to grounders in their camp, possibly spying on them. If they couldn't reach an agreement with the commander he didn't want them to have any more advantages over them.

"I am afraid the commander insists. She is impressed by your people's ability to thrive so far, she looks forward to the opportunity to meet. That means you have to survive the winter."

Lincoln was a very kind man, almost soft spoken, yet stern. He was not taking no for an answer, Clarke could tell he wasn't leaving until permanent shelters were established in camp. Part of her remembered his relationship with Bellamy's sister, Octavia, and she wondered if a piece of him was so adamant for her sake.

"Fine," Bellamy crossed his arms over his chest, "but when the shelters are done you're gone. All of you." Clarke is sure this statement is geared towards Lincoln personally, he doesn't want him around Octavia. She makes a note of this to talk to him about later.

"Of course," Lincoln nods with a tight smile, "we can start immediately."

Lincoln left the tent and Bellamy and Clarke followed suit. They make an announcement to the camp, explaining what is going on. There are many shocked and upset people, scared of the grounders and what they might do in their camp. No one could blame them, they had seen their friends murdered just weeks before, but they trusted Clarke and Bellamy, and soon the camp was in the process of building.

Clarke was helping gather and strip logs when Bellamy found her again, gesturing for her to follow him. They went to the edge of camp, far enough away for no one to hear. She hadn't the chance to think about this morning since all the commotion started, but when she was alone with him it all came rushing back, as well as the conversation with Lincoln. She was glad the brisk air had already made her cheeks red so he couldn't see the blush she was currently sporting at the thought of him telling Lincoln they were essentially married.

"I'm sorry," he huffed, his hands running through his hair, "I shouldn't have told him that. I should have talked to you about it first."

She knows exactly what he is referring to, "It's fine. Honestly, I was going to say the same thing. I need you there with me Bellamy, if they have to think we are together to do it then so be it."

He looks at her then with that half smirk that turns her insides into mush, "did you think about what you said this morning?"

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, "I don't know why I am the one who had to think about it, I thought I was pretty clear."

He chuckled at her then, taking a step closer, "So you mean it, for sure?"

"What?" She asked, not understanding him now, "Of course I meant it, I can't be with you, I can't sleep with you, if we aren't together. Exclusive." She raises an eyebrow at him as his face morphed into a serious expression.

"But is that what you want?"

She is getting frustrated now, "Is what what I want!"

"To be with me, exclusively." He stated. He looks too comfortable with this conversation, too relaxed, it makes Clarke uncomfortable.

"Well," here goes nothing, "yeah. I want to be with you. But Bellamy, I don't share."

He smiled at her then, bringing his hands to her waist and drawing her in. His lips capture hers and its better than this mornings, better than any kiss she has had. There is no hesitation, yet no urgency. His lips move with hers and she could feel the smile on his mouth as they kissed. She tangles her hands in his hair and he pulls her even closer into him. Their tongues dance with one another's and it feels as if they were made to fit together. When they break apart both are slightly out of breath.

"Me either Princess," he said, and she laughed.

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**I hope you guys loved this chapter as much as I did. Bellamy can be so... yeah. I just love him. Make sure to leave me a review so that I know what you think and what you're looking for in the future. Next chapter will be up here soon!**

\- **LM**


	4. Chapter 4

Raven knew something was up when she witnessed Clarke and Bellamy waltz back towards camp, hair tossed and messy, shoulder to shoulder with Bellamy's guiding hand on her lower back. They were very close, she noted, and Clarke looked as if she had just been drinking a whole barrel of moonshine with that dopey glossed over look in her eye. Bellamy looked serious as ever, but he definitely couldn't hide his swollen lips and the way he stood taller, with his chest puffed out in a prideful, predatory manner.

If they hadn't just banged in the woods she was certain she should stay away from their tent tonight...

Clarke made sure to get right back to work, avoiding the wondering stares she received from the group as she walked by. She hadn't been to the bunker much at all today and was sure there must be some injuries from building, so she headed there first. Upon her arrival she found that her suspicions were completely correct. There were many cuts, a few severe enough to need stitches, and a couple of bumps on the head. What surprised her most was the fact that a grounder was sitting in the bunker next to Finn, who had brought him there to have a cut on his forearm stitched up. The grounder was large, with tan skin and a tattoo covering half of his face. His beard was long, and his hair pulled back in a tight bun. He was chatting with Finn when she arrived.

"Finn," she said, "who is your friend?"

"Hey Clarke, he's from Lincolns Kru, he was helping us with the rebuild, his hammer slipped," he replied. She looked at the grounder and smiled. He stared back at her with a curious expression on his face but didn't seem threatening.

"What happened to your hand," she asked, and he let out a low, gruff sound of annoyance.

"Just a scratch," his voice was deep and rough, "wouldn't even bother patching it if he hadn't insisted I see you."

Clarke examined the man's forearm, turning it over in her hands, pressing down to see if he responded negatively to pain. His expression remained unchanged.

"Well, your tolerance to pain may be high but that doesn't mean this doesn't need stitching. I'm going to have to close this." He gave her a stiff nod, his eyes never leaving her face, as if he were examining her as much as she was him.

She grabbed her box of tools and began working. She could tell that there were two sets of eyes trained intently on her the entire time but chose to ignore them. She would talk to Finn when they were alone about what transpired in the meeting with Lincoln, right now in front of the grounder was not the time. The man she tended to seemed gentle enough, his hands were rough from years of work and labor out in the elements. He had many scars littered across his skin, a testament to his line of work, but she couldn't tell yet if that was as a warrior or a builder. The callouses on his palms did little to answer that question; they could have formed from swinging either a hammer or a blade. His demeanor was calm, he was respectful, answering her questions about pain and discomfort when prompted and never brushing her off as lesser. These people from the ground were certainly perplexing.

"I have to ask," she started, making conversation, "why is it that you are all so willing to help us?"

He grunted and it almost sounded like a chuckle, "The commander has asked," he stated simply.

"So you just do whatever it is she tells you?" Clarke didn't mean to sound pushy, she was just generally curious about this revered figure. She had no clue how many people she presided over, and how she seemed to have all of them obey her every command.

"She is our commander," his answer is firm, as if it was supposed to be an obviously indisputable statement.

"Did you elect her?" Clarke asked. The man looked puzzled.

"She won the conclave, she is the rightful commander," his tone was finite, making it clear that Clarke should ask no more questions. She would have to find information elsewhere, perhaps Octavia could get something out of Lincoln.

Finn had been watching the entire encounter. He was tense at her side, he stood too close for Clarke's comfort if she were being honest. He loomed over her as if his duty was to be there as a protector, Clarke thought he would leave once she started to tend to the grounder, but his presence was unshakable.

"Does your chosen know this man works so closely to you?" The man asks boldly. Clarke blushed as she caught the surprised look on Finn's face.

"Her what-" Finn began, but Clarke cut him off.

"I don't think that Bellamy is aware that Finn is here at the moment," Clarke started, watching as the grounder's eyebrows raised ever so slightly, "but I'm sure he doesn't mind."

Finn looked even more confused than before. He began to mumble out questions when the grounder said, "If any man stood that close to my chosen without my knowledge I would take his head."

Finn's jaw dropped and his hands shot up in defense, "I'm Clarke's friend," he began, "I'm just here to make sure she is safe."

"Do you not trust us boy?" The grounder asked, a sinister look in his eye.

"That's not what I'm saying-" Finn started, but it only made the grounder laugh.

"You shouldn't. Never trust an enemy you don't know, and don't ever trust an enemy you do."

Clarke didn't know how to respond. These people were so bold, so brazen, they lacked filters and codes of conduct. She could not believe this man just actually admitted to them that she shouldn't trust him, or any of his other colleagues for that matter. For whatever reason however, this made her trust him more.

She finished up and told him to wash it often, making sure to change the wrapping that she put on him with a clean one at the least every day. He huffed at her and inspected the work with what Clarke could have sworn was a critical eye. Seeming satisfied he nodded at her in thanks and stood to leave. Finn backed up as soon as the man reached his full height, puffing out his chest to not look too intimidated.

"You know," Clarke said, trying to break the awkward tension, "I never got your name."

"Nyko," he said, his tone gruff. Without another word he left the tent.

Finn wasted no time turning on Clarke and demanding answers. "What the hell was that about?" he wondered. His chest was heaving and his eyes bewildered from the interaction.

"Calm down, it's not that big of a deal," she brushed off, and began putting her supplies away.

"Not that big a deal," Finn repeated, "Clarke he just called Bellamy your 'chosen,' whatever the hell that means, and you didn't deny it? He made it seem like you guys were with one another."

"Well," she struggled to find the right words. How was she supposed to explain that the grounders thought that she and Bellamy were a proper married couple? She looked at Finn, who seemed to become more worried and confused by the second and decided the best thing to do was rip off the bandage and tell him the truth.

"Look, Finn, the grounders are different from our people. They respect different traditions than we do in different ways," she began, "so when I told them that Bellamy and I were co-leaders they didn't really buy it. The only way it made sense to them was if Bellamy and I were a couple."

"So they think you and him are, what, dating? Come on Clarke, this is a bit ridiculous," he turned from her and started pacing the room.

She was a bit taken a back from his reaction; not only because she didn't realize he would feel so strongly about seeing someone else, but also because she thought it was quite obvious that her and Bellamy's relationship had changed. Had he not realized she had been sleeping in his tent for Christ sake? This information made her a bit pissed, and so she came right out and told him the whole truth.

"Actually, they think we are married. Lincoln was the one to tell us they all thought we were spouses."

Finn looked completely shocked. His eyes were stuck open, staring at her as if she had just changed his entire world. He rushed towards her and grabbed her by the shoulders, squeezing and slightly shaking her, his face growing increasingly full of rage and disbelief.

"You can't be serious!" he exclaimed, "You have to tell them it's a lie! There is no fucking way you would marry that dick, no way in Hell Clarke, tell them you're joking, that they didn't understand," he rambled on.

"Finn," she squeaked, "please let me go that hurts."

"No Clarke this is fucking stupid tell them it's not true! Tell me that you would never be with that pig."

"Wait, when did this become about you?" she questioned, raising her eyebrows at him, and his grip tightened, "Finn I am protecting our people. This is the best way how. I need him."

"The Hell you do," he spat, and Clarke almost flinched at the hatred in his voice. She always knew those two didn't get along, but she hadn't realized to what extent. "He's a monster Clarke. He shot Well's dad, the chancellor, tried to kill you or at least make our families think we were dead when we reached the ground, started a mutiny, and a whole bunch of other shit that put us all in danger. You don't need him, not when you have-"

"Have who Finn?" she asked, cutting in before he could finish, "who could help me keep all of us safe better than him? He found us guns, he taught us to swim when no one else knew how. He is the best hunter, best fighter, and believe it or not, the best conflict manager between people. You really want to tell me someone else could do a better job?"

She hadn't thought about all that Bellamy had done for the camp so far, but when she was coming up with an argument for Finn to hear it all came tumbling out, as if she had known all along how important he was, and perhaps she did. He really did keep the camp together, and she couldn't imagine trying to do any of this without him.

Finn's grip tightened on her shoulders before he pushed her back with a good bit of force that shocked Clarke. She yelped as she hit the cot behind her and he yelled, "You're not listening! You don't understand."

She was confused. Finn had never acted this way before, not with her. She had seen him get a little too aggressive when he got angry with other male campers, and maybe once with Raven when they argued about handling the gun powder. He had thought the job was too dangerous for her and ended up leaving bruises on her arm when he tried to keep her from going into the tent with the ammunition.

He stalked towards her again and she tried to step to the side so he couldn't grab her again, but it was no use. He snatched her arm in his and she yelped as his grip tightened around her wrist. "Clarke-" he said, but was again interrupted, but this time by a much deeper tone of voice.

"Get your fucking hands off of her."

Bellamy was fuming in the frame of the door. He must have ducked under the tarp seconds before, but Clarke couldn't hear over the commotion she and Finn had caused. His shoulders were tense and red was creeping up his neck as he tried to control his breathing. Clarke could see his hands balled into fists at his side. He took a step towards them, but Finn didn't seem to want to back down.

"This is none of your business Bellamy," Finn said, his eyes never leaving Clarke. She on the other hand had taken to staring helplessly at the man who would hopefully be her savior.

"I will blow your head off in a second if you don't remove your hand from her right now," Bellamy barked. He was not joking, there was no room for misinterpretation in his voice. Finn finally looked at Bellamy then, rage building in his chest. He released Clarke and she sighed with relief as she rubbed her wrist, a bruise was sure to form there by night.

"You would fire a gun this close to her?" he was livid, his stance rigid as he made his first mistake; advancing towards Bellamy. "Are you crazy? Aren't you supposed to be taking care of her?"

As soon as he got into range Bellamy reared back and punched Finn with all his force in the jaw. If it were any other day, any other situation, Clarke would have protested; but on the contrary, in this moment she was never more glad for Bellamy's temper. He knelt down next to Finn as the boy clutched his cheek in pain, moaning into the floor.

"Stay away from her," he stated simply, and stood. Clarke didn't know what to do. The doctor in her said that she should check on Finn, make sure that his jaw wasn't broken and didn't require any more help, he would most certainly have a concussion after that incident. The other part of her said to run into Bellamy's arms and let him take her away from the ship and this entire situation. She was at an impasse, until Bellamy reached a hand towards her and looked at her with a pleading expression that made her heart melt.

He led her out of the ship without a word but did place an arm around her shoulder and a gentle kiss on her temple when they were out in the open air. It was almost night now, and the camp was turning down for dinner. Many eyes were on them as they made their way to his tent, some surprised to see their close proximity and others pleasantly high-fiving each other and reaching out for bet money.

Once inside Bellamy reached out for her arm and she gave it to him. He touched her gingerly, avoiding prodding the flesh too aggressively. He didn't speak for a while, just sat on the edge of the bed with her and rubbed her wrist. His eyes met hers after a while and she smiled sheepishly at him. She didn't know why but she felt embarrassed by the whole incident. It wasn't like she had done anything wrong, or that he would be mad at her for any reason, but she still couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that stuck in her chest as he held her.

"Did he put his hands anywhere else?" he asked, and Clarke was going to shake her head, but decided against it when she saw the sincerity in his eyes. He wasn't going to go after Finn, not tonight, he just wanted to make sure she was okay. She nodded and his expression grew hard, "where?"

"Here," she held her shoulder closest to him, "he grabbed me by the shoulders when I told him about what the grounders thought about us. I guess he wasn't to happy."

Bellamy snorted at the comment and began peeling back the top of her shirt to reveal her bare shoulder to him. The first shadings of a bruise began to form there, and he frowned.

"I could have told you that," he stated, and it was her turn to be confused.

"What do you mean?" she asked, "did you know he was going to react like that?"

"Not necessarily," he huffed, "but I could have told you he wasn't going to be happy. He's been in love with you since the moment we hit the ground."

Clarke was taken a back by that statement. Sure, Finn had been close to her, always making sure she was taken care of and comfortable, well fed even. But Finn had Raven, granted she did come down after the rest of the 100, but still. He loved Raven.

"I don't understand," she began, "he's with Raven." It was a simple matter of fact statement, and yet Bellamy laughed.

"I guess you just have that effect on people Princess," he smiled at her and Clarke's breathing picked up. His thumb was rubbing slow circles into her shoulder blade, and she was suddenly very aware of the effect his touch was having on her. His eyes darkened and she fought the urge to take her lip between her teeth, or his for that matter.

"We should get dinner," she said. He nodded. He gave her shoulder one more soothing brush and then his hands were off her, instead now offering her support to stand as he rose to his feet. She took in a deep breath and she swore she could hear him chuckle at her actions but didn't comment on it.

As they walked out of the tent they could see that Finn was back on his feet. He was sitting by the fire with Raven, shaking his head as she asked him questions, all the while holding a cold cloth to his face. Out of the corner of her eye Clarke could see Nyko with a few other grounders looking on at the pair in front of the fire; he was laughing.

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**There you are everyone, chapter 4! The next chapter gets... steamy. There will be smut, you have been warned! Thank you for reading and leave me a review and let me know what you think!**

\- LM


	5. Chapter 5

**WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! You are entering SMUT territory. You have been warned! Enjoy**

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That night after dinner things were tense around camp. Clarke could tell that the delinquents didn't like having the grounders around, it made them uncomfortable, and that tended to rear its head in ugly ways. Bellamy had to break up two fights after dinner over how much food each person received. Phoenix thought that one of the grounders was taking more than their share and shoved him into another camper, Ben, who thought that the grounder pushed him. Lincoln and Bellamy had to get in the middle before more people engaged in the encounter, and Bellamy earned a jab to the cheek for his efforts. Needless to say, he was not happy. Clarke had tried to intervene on a number of occasions, but Miller had held her back by his side. She had a sneaking suspicion Bellamy had a conversation with him about keeping her out of trouble.

Eventually things settled down just as the sun fell behind the horizon and people began to turn down for the night. This caused more issues, as the people in camp didn't want the grounders sleeping inside the walls with them at night.

"They have nothing to worry about," Fox said, "they're the only thing scary in those woods."

The grounders outright protested. "There are much more dangerous things in those woods than us."

"Like what?" someone asked from the crowd, Clarke couldn't tell who. Their voice didn't sound as angry or insistent as the others, almost as if they believed what the grounders were saying.

"Reapers," Lincoln replied from the back of the group. He stared pointedly at Clarke, expecting her to end the debate.

She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders, addressing the amassed crowd with as much authority as she could muster. "The grounders will sleep inside the wall. We can trust them; they wouldn't be helping us now if we couldn't."

Some looked as if they might protest, a few even opened their mouths as if to announce their opinion on the matter, but quickly shut them again. Pride swelled for a moment in her chest with the amount of sway she held over her people, but then she felt a presence behind her, pressed very close to her back. She turned her head slightly to catch the shadow of dark curls reflecting off the fire light. She could feel his tense muscles and the heat coming off his chest form his proximity, and a shiver rippled down her spine. If she could see his face, she was sure it would be stone cold, making sure everyone knew that what Clarke said was final.

The camp began to disperse, reverting back into their respective tents, some to get some much-needed rest and others to lick their wounds. Clarke turned to Bellamy then and he was so close she had to take a step back to look him in the eye.

"Come on Princess," he said, "I want to see those bruises."

So that's why he was so tense, he wasn't over the Finn incident from earlier. She couldn't blame him, she wasn't even hardly over it herself. To be honest she still couldn't wrap her head around the whole thing to begin with. At the mention of the bruises she began to feel the ache in her muscles, in the skin around the area he had gripped her so tightly. Bellamy gave her a worried look as they walked back to his tent.

He lifted the flap for her and they went inside. Immediately his hands were on her waist, lifting up her shirt gently yet insistent. It wasn't sexual, actually the way he was touching her now was the least sexual since they had gotten to the ground. He was genuinely worried about her. She began to protest when he started to drag the top up over her chest, but with one serious look from the dark-haired boy she caved and lifted her arms for him to help. He deposited the shirt on the floor next to them and began to inspect her shoulders.

Even to Clarke they looked bad. It must have been the way the small fire that they had going in the middle of the tent reflected off of her pale skin that made them look so dark and angry. They were deep, she could feel them, it would take a good week for them to fade into an ugly yellow before vanishing.

Bellamy looked focused as his fingers ghosted over each bruise. He picked up her arms and inspected each wrist, noting each indentation where a finger had surely been. His face was screwed into a permanent scowl. This didn't work for Clarke however, she didn't want him to be angry or upset. She had a long day, and wasn't about to end it with a gloomy, brooding man in her bed.

"Bellamy," she said, and his eyes met hers, "I bruise easy. They don't even hurt. I promise."

"Clarke," his eyes looked as if they were burning as the glow from the fire reflected in them, the sound of her name on his lips was intense, "no one should touch you like that. Ever."

"Well we can't make it better now," she sighed, "so lets just try to forget about it tonight, okay?"

"I mean, I could try to make it better," he said, and suddenly the mood in the room shifted dramatically. His eyes never left hers as he lifted her wrist to his lips and began to pepper kisses across the skin. Clarke felt her chest become tight and her heart rate pick up speed, and she prayed that he couldn't feel it rushing in the pulse point under his mouth.

He picked up her other wrist and continued the ministration. Slowly he lowered her arms back down and moved in closer, shifting behind her and placing is hands on her waist.

"Is this okay?" he asked as he began to lay kisses across her shoulder, inching closer and closer to her neck.

"Yes," she breathed and she could feel the smile on his mouth as he continued to press into her skin. She inclined her head to the side to allow him better access to the curve of her throat and let out a sigh as he found purchase there. Gently he pushed her hair to the side and continued to kiss up her neck, nipping lightly at her ear when he reached that point. He moved to the other shoulder, setting an agonizing pace as he slowly lavished her skin with his mouth. His hands pulled her closer into him, his grip tightening but not uncomfortable.

Clarke became frustrated as he slowly dragged his mouth up the column of her throat to her ear, his breath shooting shivers throughout her body. He huffed and turned in his arms abruptly, grabbing his face in her hands and bringing their mouths together. He smiled into her mouth as their tongues collided, dancing together perfectly in sync. She tangled her hands in his hair as he took over the kiss, deepening the embrace as she melted into him.

He began to kiss across her cheek and chuckled at her irritation, "patience Princess," he said, and she smiled and gently swatted him in the chest.

"I'm not very good at being patient," she replied, and turned them. His knees hit the back of the bed and he sat down, gently pulling her to him. She straddled his waist, her fingers combing through his hair as his hands ran up and down her sides. She realized then that she was the only one shirtless in the room, and well that just wasn't right.

She tugged at the hem of his top and he easily pulled it over his head, tossing it haphazardly to the floor, returning his hands to her waist. His mouth fell to her collarbone, kissing his way down to the top of her breasts. She moaned as he kissed over the top of her bra where her nipple was becoming uncomfortably hard. She reached back and undid the clasping to pull it off her body. Bellamy pulled back to let her remove the article, looking her in the eye as if to ask for permission, and she nodded her head in response. Clarke guided his mouth towards her nipple and he enveloped it, lightly nipping and sucking, sending her into a state of pure bliss. Clarkes hips ground hard down into his lap and Bellamy let out a low groan. His right hand came up to cup the breast he was currently worshiping and Clarke leaned further into him.

Bellamy stood abruptly, wrapping his other arm around Clarke's back to support her as he spun them around and laid her on the bed in front of him. He hovered over her and their lips connected once more. It was too hot, Clarke could feel his warmth all over her, spreading from her head to her toes. When he reached to undo the button of her pants she all but sighed with relief. He kissed his way down her neck, her chest, her stomach, dragging her jeans and under garments as he went. In moments she was lying before him, naked and wanting.

"So fucking beautiful," he breathed. She sat up to start undoing the clasp on his pants; after all, it was unfair for her to be the only one without cloths. Quickly she pulled his boxers and bottoms off, not willing to wait another moment for him to do it himself.

She almost gasped at the sight of him. Her face must have said everything Bellamy needed to know; her eyes were wide and she was openly staring at his member. He lightly gripped her chin and raised her eyes to his.

"It will be fine Princess," he smiled at her and she could feel her worries begin to ebb, but only slightly, "I know you can take me. Just be honest, if it hurts, I'll stop. Okay?"

She nodded her head and lifted a tentative hand to grip him. He was definitely bigger than anyone she had been with. Not that she had much to compare to, she had only been with a few other people before coming to the ground. Her first boyfriend was less than impressive, but she loved him at the time and doesn't regret anything that occurred between them. If anything she was grateful; if she had been with Bellamy then she was sure he would have split her in two. The next person she was with was a girlfriend she had for a brief period of time, and so the issue of size was a forgotten matter. The last person she had been with was Well's before they came to the ground. They had been such good friends for so long, even considered dating at one point. It was nice, but after that night Clarke had realized that friends was the only thing they would ever be, and so nothing else happened. She had thought Well's was big, but Bellamy brought a whole new meaning to the phrase 'well endowed.'

Her grip on him was light as she began to stroke him. His muscles tensed as he let her take the lead, literally allowing his pleasure to be placed in the palm of her hand.

After a while he placed his hand over hers and tightened their hold. "It's okay, I'm not going to break." She began to stroke him harder, her mouth drifting dangerously close to the tip. Bellamy gripped her hair and guided her forward, his eyes glued to hers. She didn't break the contact when she opened her mouth and drew him in.

Bellamy took a sharp intake of breath as she began to move up and down his shaft, her tongue swirling around the tip and back down again as she tried to take as much of him in as she could. He continued to guide her and encourage her as she quickened her pace.

"Holy shit," he moaned, "so good at this Clarke. Good fucking girl for me," she hummed at his words, happy that she could satisfy him this way. She had only done it a few times before and had been worried she wouldn't be very good at it. With Bellamy guiding her through she had started to learn what he liked.

"Fuck Clarke stop," he gritted his teeth and pulled her hair back so that her mouth was off him. She frowned as she took in the man before her. He was breathing heavy, and his eyes looked wild and yet, soft in a way Clarke couldn't put her finger on. Was it pride?

"Stand up," he commanded, and immediately she was on her feet. His hand was no longer gripping her hair but instead came down to wrap around her waist. "I need you to listen, if any of this gets uncomfortable, if you need me to stop you have to tell me. Do you understand?"

She nodded her head quickly, eager to continue their previous activity, but this wasn't good enough for him. "I need to hear you say it Clarke," he pulled her eyes back to his with an intense gaze. She was mesmerized by him, drawn out of her daze by only his voice, "answer me Princess." He took her face into both of his hands and stroked her cheek.

"Yes," she replied, surprised at how wanting her own voice sounded, "I understand Bellamy."

"Do you trust me?" He asked, his eyes searching hers for the truth. It left her lips before he even had the chance to take his next breath.

"Of course I trust you."

He returned his lips to hers once more, it was so easy now for them to do this, it was like coming home. It amazed Clarke how much faster everything moved here on the ground. They had only been there a few weeks, three months maximum, yet she felt as if they had lived a lifetime on the earth. They had to develop a level of trust that only comes when a person is forced to put their life in the hands of others and their decisions every single day. Of course she trusted Bellamy; he had kept her alive in the most dangerous place she had ever been, and helped her keep everyone else safe along the way. There was no one else she trusted more.

Bellamy lifted her and deposited Clarke onto the bed. A giggle escaped her lips at the abrupt change in pace. He lowered himself down until his face was between her legs, his breath against her core causing the laugh to die in her throat instantly, a new kind of desire building within her.

Instinctively she began to close her legs, hiding herself from him. "Uh uh, I want to see you Princess," he said, tisking at her, he tapped her thigh and gently placed a hand between them, "open up for me Clarke."

She did as he asked and spread her knees wider. Still unsatisfied he picked up her ankle and threw it over his shoulder and placed a palm on her other thigh, holding it in place. "Relax," he breathed against her, and she did.

When his mouth finally came down on her it was heaven. Masterfully he dragged his tongue along his slit, opening her up for him to devour. He lapped and sucked at her until she was moaning his name loudly.

"Bellamy," she breathed, "I… I need…" she was so frustrated; she was teetering on the edge just waiting for something to push her over.

"What do you need Princess," he asked. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts so she could pinpoint what it was she wanted. At that moment all she could think about was Bellamy and the feel of his mouth on her.

Bellamy began to bring a finger to her opening, swirling it around in her wetness.

"Oh god," she moaned, and he chuckled into her core.

"Is this what you want," he asked, "something inside you?"

"Yes," she groaned, and her hips bucked into his hand.

"You want me to fuck you Clarke?"

"Yes," she all but cried. In the back of her mind she knew she should be quieter; anyone awake in the camp could surely hear her.

"Soon Princess, gotta get you ready first." He started again at her core, licking away at her folds at a devastating pace. His fingers aligned with her center and slowly he stroked them into her. Clarke's back arched into the air and Bellamy had to put a forearm across her waist to keep her in place. Very quickly she climbed back to her peak, ready to tip over. He continued to work his fingers into her, "Are you going to come for me?"

She nodded her head fervently as he crooked his fingers into the exact spot she wanted him to.

"Tell me how much you want to come for me baby," he said, his tone taking on a demanding force.

"Please Bellamy," she begged, and that was what he was looking for.

"Such a good girl Clarke, come for me Princess."

A low, primal moan escaped her lips as he returned his mouth to her bundle of nerves that controlled her mind at the moment. She came undone to his mouth and fingers working her over the edge. Her orgasm ripped through her as she cried out his name, her core clamping down around his hand.

She panted hard as he crawled up her body, leaving kisses and soft caresses in his wake. "Are you ready?" he asked when he got to her neck, his lips pressed into her ear.

"Give a girl a minute," she huffed, overwhelmed by the sensations occurring across her body. That was by far the most intense orgasm she had ever felt. She was a bit in shock from it.

Bellamy was patient. He was happy to worship her body as she collected herself, making sure to spend plenty of time giving attention to her breasts.

"Okay," she said as she felt her core become tight again with anticipation from his touch.

He hovered over her then, bringing his forehead down to touch hers. He braced himself with a forearm next to her head, his other wrapped all the way around her waist to grip her under him. He lined up with her center. Clarke wiggled under him, unable to contain her need.

"Patience," he warns again, and she smirked at him.

"I think we have already established I am not very good at –" she was cut off when Bellamy pushed into her. Slowly at first he entered her core, she gasped at his size, knowing now why he made sure to get her off before attempting sex. She needed the stretching if he was going to fit.

He grunted at the feel of her. Clarke's walls were gripping him tightly, and he was seeing stars. It was a wonder he didn't come undone himself at that very moment.

"Fuck Clarke," he growled in her ear.

"Bell, you're so…"

"I know Princess," she was tense under him, unsure of this new feeling, "I know you can handle me. Relax, let me take care of you."

He felt her body soften underneath him and that was all the cue he needed to start moving.

He set the pace slow at first, allowing her to adjust to him. Once he started to hear her breathy moans in his ear he knew he could pick up the pace. Gradually his hips began to buck harder and harder into her. Clarke's soft mules became grunts and whines.

"Bellamy, oh my god, Bell," she cried out and he had to lower his hand across her mouth, stifling her sounds.

"Gotta be quiet, the entire camp can hear you." She moaned again loudly into his hand and he growled.

"Clarke," he warned, "fuck. You're so fucking wet. You gonna come for me again Princess?" As he asked she could feel it building again, her orgasm on the edge of the cliff ready to spill at any moment.

"Come for me Clarke," he commanded in her ear. His hips slammed into hers as her climax washed over her. He felt her walls flutter around his cock and he knew he was close.

"Shit Clarke," his voice wavered, "I'm gonna come."

Clarke couldn't really comprehend what was happening in that moment; only that she was coming down from one hell of an orgasm and that Bellamy was close to finishing as well.

"Please Bell," she breathed, her brain attempting to come back from total pleasure, "Bellamy, come." It was meant to come out more demanding, but instead it fell from her lips as a desperate plea.

With one last grunt, her name fell from his lips as he spilled inside her.

They lay there like that for a few minutes. Bellamy felt himself begin to soften and started to retract himself from Clarke. She protested at the lack of contact and he smiled affectionately at her.

"I'm not going far," he assured her, and to prove his point her swiftly and gently pulled her flush against his side. He reached down and grabbed the blankets that were now scrunched up at the end of the bed to drape over them.

"How you feelin'?" he asked, a hand lightly stroking up and down her back as she lay on his chest. Her response was a low hum of satisfaction. He chuckled and kissed the crown of her head.

Quickly Clarke began to drift off to sleep to his calming touch. "Bellamy," she said, her voice a bit hoarse and groggy, "that was…" she drifted off, unsure how to finish that sentence. How could she describe what she was feeling? Nice just didn't seem to cut it.

"Amazing," he replied, and that word seemed right.

"Yeah," she agreed. She snuggled deeper into his side. His fingers ghosted over her shoulders and she remembered suddenly what brought them here in the first place. Bellamy seemed to notice her change in mood; it was as if he could almost read her mind.

"Do they hurt?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

"A little," she answered honestly.

"Fuck, I'm sorry Clarke, I should have been more gentle." He drew his hands away from her. She sat up to look him in the eye and found guilt.

"What, no Bellamy you have nothing to be sorry for. Like you said, that was amazing. I didn't even remember they were there until right now."

He gazed into her eyes and could tell she was being honest. His expression grew hard as he cupped her cheek. "If he – if anyone – ever touches you like that again," he took a deep breath, closing his eyes to regain composure, "Clarke I swear –"

"Sh, Bell, I know," she soothed, placing her head back down onto his chest, her hand over his heart, "I have your back you have mine. I trust you Bellamy."

She felt his lips brush against her hair and his breathing slow to a normal pace. "I'll always protect you Princess."

"And I'll take care of you," she automatically replied. She turned her face and kissed his chest. He settled in, placing a hand around her waist and the other over her hand on him.

"Get some sleep Clarke," he whispered over her head, "we have big things ahead of us."

"Goodnight Bellamy," she yawned.

Just minutes later, they were sound asleep.

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**Welp, that was my first ever attempt at smut... maybe it will happen again, maybe it won't, who knows! Sorry this update took so long I legit have no excuses except for the fact that I procrastinate more than anyone I know. **

**Also, can you guys believe that Beliza are MARRIED!? **

**See you all in the next update and stay awesome.**

-** LM**


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